


vomit

by maraudersourwolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Feelings, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 03:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: He only stopped once in the bathroom. The first floor girl’s bathroom it is. He needed a privacy that the male’s bathrooms or the bathroom on his bedroom couldn’t give him. Not when you’re going to trow up like that.





	vomit

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta’d. 
> 
> I’m a messy writer so you’ll find more mistaked that there should be. 
> 
> For J, my bro, ‘cause I love drowning you with my Deamus ideas.

 

“Imma vomit…”

And with that he ran away as quick as his tangled and numb limbs let him. He was sure that he knocked some people over as well as a table full of cups with firewhiskey. And a chair. With people on it. Kissing. Pretty sure one of them was Ron. And the girl in the floor was Hermione.  _Well, shit._

The thick accent in Ron’s voice sputtering half-assed insults stopped him for a second. He should say he was sorry. He was drunk but he wasn’t that drunk. But he was going to vomit so he ran away. The same way he was doing now, leaving Ron behind. He would do it later, now he needed to head the fuck out there.

He only stopped once in the bathroom. The first floor girl’s bathroom it is. He needed a privacy that the male’s bathrooms or the bathroom on his bedroom couldn’t give him. Not when you’re going to trow up like that. 

Moaning Myrtle didn’t even gave him a second glance. It was like if she bloody knew. Maybe it was the way his glossy eyes looked desperately at the cubicles. Or the faint blush at the tip of his ears and the apples of his cheeks giving more life to the freckles and the moles. Or the way his hands shaked and his whole body trembled. Or maybe he reeked of desperation and bad decisions.

What was he doing there?

Oh, yeah, he was going to vomit in front of Dean. Under that brown gaze that asked many questions without saying any.  _Are you okay. Do you need help. Tell me you’re having fun. Are you having fun. Are you feeling sick. Do you need my help. Let me help you. Let me. Stop runing. What do you need Seamus. What._  And when he saw Dean trying to convey all of that into real words, he blurted what was on his mind and ran. Feeling ashamed. His skin suddenly prickled and everything felt wrong.

Bloody fucking Merlin, he felt so wrong. 

And it wasn’t like if he never bloody got sick in front of Dean. He puked so many times that he can’t even remember. Like that one time he got sick with the rum he tried to trasfigurate. Or that one strange flu that got him on bed for a week and made his vomit look blue and pink. Or the many parties. But this was different. So very bloody different.

Because he was going to vomit. 

In a terribly exposed and heartfelt way. 

_He almost said he loved him._


End file.
